A Drop in the Ocean
by Jixie
Summary: The dramatic rescue of a drowning child. A chance meeting that turns into a lifelong friendship. Survival against all odds, when illness makes every day a triumph. Having to watch your adopted sister's painfully bad "talent" show. Everyone has a story to tell. A look into the lives of Rockman's friends and family. Mermaid AU. Ensemble cast.
1. Lost at Sea

**A Drop in the Ocean**

By Jixie

* * *

A/N: This is specifically for Sura's MerNavi AU. All you need to know is _mermaids_.

\- Takes place after "A Fish Out of Water", which is not required reading. (But if you like this one, you'll probably enjoy that one, as well.)

Special thanks to Sura for help, suggestions, and beta reading.

Mega Man Battle Network © Capcom

* * *

**Lost at Sea**

* * *

It was a beautiful afternoon, absolutely perfect, because _of course_ it was.

The waves were a little choppy, but that wasn't really noticeable from the yacht. Personally, she would've described them as 'rollicking'.

Her husband was napping inside, and her son was pretend sword fighting as he raced up and down the deck, their au pair struggling to keep up with the energetic five-year-old, and she was finishing off one too many glasses of plum wine than she perhaps should have had.

(Okay, it was probably more like three too many— but it was a beautiful day! Peaceful and quiet and on the yacht. What was the harm?)

With a bold cry of, "Can't catch me!" Enzan scrambled up the deck railing.

"Get down from there, sweetie," she said. There was a small rush of anxiety— a normal maternal response, but she restrained herself… he had good balance and coordination and like most kids his age loved to climb. She knew he'd be fine, just like he had been fine a thousand times before.

And if worst came to worst, he was wearing a life jacket.

Normally the sturdy railing wouldn't have been a problem for Enzan, but it was wet and slick and those rollicking waves caused the boat to pitch _just enough_. He lost his grip, bonked his head on the edge of the deck on his way down, and landed in the ocean with a decidedly unimpressive splash.

That was going to leave a bad lump, for certain.

"ENZAN!"

She might've well have been a mile away, the au pair a hundred miles. They both bolted for the rail, and his mother didn't even bother with a life jacket: she just dove.

A terrible idea.

Unlike her husband or her son, she'd grown up in a highrise, her world made of steel and glass. She'd taken swimming lessons since they got the yacht, but she was barely passable, unable to do much more than dog paddle. The warm day and gentle salt-spray breeze, the rollicking waves, became a shockingly cold, unforgiving sea, sharp wind cutting over the waves, violently tossing her and her child around like they were nothing. To the ocean, they _were_ nothing.

Hurt and scared and freezing, Enzan screamed and thrashed, choking as he swallowed mouthfuls of sea water. The life jacket was up around his neck, half of it bobbing in front of him, and his mother realized with horror that he must've loosened the belts. Cleverly, the young au pair had convinced him the life jacket made a fitting armored vest for his sword fight, but it was still clunky and he didn't like it. He had a habit of unsnapping the buckles to get better maneuverability.

"Hold onto the jacket! Hold onto it, baby!"

If he heard her, if he understood, she couldn't tell. Adrenaline fueled her forward, the waves knocking her under, and it felt like no matter how much she gained the ocean pulled him further and further away.

Then a particularly strong wave swept over him, and he disappeared under the water. Moments later he surfaced, if only for a second, the life jacket drifting away in another direction.

His mother kicked, and kicked, and stroked with her arms but it just wasn't enough.

Enzan surfaced one more time.

Then he was gone.

* * *

In a big-picture sense, Blues both liked and disliked humans.

He didn't care for their shortsightedness, their callous treatment of others, of nature, of their own environment. Their inherent destructive tendencies.

On the other hand, he was impressed by their ability to overcome. They were physically fragile and extremely limited, built around living on land in a world that was mostly water. Although they were technologically behind mernavi, they'd managed to overcome their failings, finding inventive ways to live on and under the ocean, in the air, in the sky. What mernavi had ever tried to live on land, much less take a rocketship into space?

On an individual level, he had no opinion. He'd never met one and felt no particular desire to.

Fate would intervene.

Fate… or more likely pure dumb luck.

'Pure dumb luck', as it happened, was how a lot of ocean rescues went. There were mernavi who specialized in emergency response, helping humans just as they would another navi. There were even some navi who dealt exclusively in human search-and-rescue missions, usually working for humans, ambassadors of inter-species cooperation, just as there were humans who did the same for navi.

But most of the time it went something like this:

Blues, minding his own damn business. Little boy, falling off a boat and drowning.

He didn't even know it _was_ a human child at first. He just saw something flailing and jerking and then sinking. Something that didn't move like any ocean creature, something clearly out of its element. As he got closer, he could see the child was very young, very small, very fragile, very limited.

How long could they breathe underwater? No, wait, he was thinking of something else. How long could they hold their breath? He caught the child in his arms. They were unconscious, but fortunately, still holding their breath.

Right? No, that didn't sound right.

He quickly swam to the surface, and realized that no, the child definitely wasn't holding their breath. They were simply _not breathing_. How long…?

Moving even faster, he carried the child towards— their parent? A human female, swimming frantically… and badly… towards them, away from the ship. Blues found himself shoving the child into her arms, then grabbing her by the waist and towing both of them back to the boat.

The crew had gathered around the edge, and someone dropped a ladder where Blues approached. Three of the crew members donned life jackets and headed down to meet them, one grabbing the child and carrying them up, the other two helping the mother. They shouted a hurried thanks to him, clearly preoccupied with more pressing matters, but grateful nevertheless.

He couldn't see what was going on once everyone was up on the deck, but there was a lot of screaming and wailing and then silence.

What he expected was for the boat to take off, heading straight for the nearest port. Instead, it stayed right where it was. He couldn't understand, not at first. Perhaps the child had died, and there was no need to rush?

Then, after about twenty minutes, there was a strange whooshing sound in the air. It grew louder, and Blues realized it was an aircraft, with a round little body and oversized propeller on its top. He'd seen these before, in some of the dorky human movies Rock and Netto were so fond of, but the name of it escaped him. It was fast, whatever it was, and clearly it could make the round trip to the boat and back long before the ship itself could've gotten anywhere.

It was impressive. In spite of the dire situation, Blues found himself wishing he could ride in such a craft.

The child was loaded on, along with the mother, and two others— the other parent, he supposed, and… an older sibling, perhaps? Then it took off. Blues waited around a little longer, expecting someone might hail him, let him know how the child fared…

…but no one did, and after another twenty minutes or so, he plunged down into the warm current he had been coasting along before and went back to minding his own damn business, thinking that was the last he'd see of this tiny human fry.

It would turn out he was wrong about that.

* * *

Five years later, Blues received an electronic message. He thought it was just tedious algae scum— junk messages, scams, often riddled with viruses and malware and other digital threats, named after the brown foamy crud that sometimes collected along the shore.

So he put it into the scum folder without reading and forgot about it. He had training in an hour with one of the instructors and she was not known for being patient with tardiness in trainees.

Another message came the following week, and it gave him pause. It had the same heading as the message he had discarded.

He gave it a thorough scan before reading, just in case, but it came up clean. It was from one Ijuuin Enzan.

A short, decisive message saying that he wanted to reconnect with Blues.

At first, he had no idea what any of this meant. The number of encounters he'd had with humans could be counted on one hand, and none of them were named 'Enzan'. Scratch that. All of them had involved Meiru, Roll's human friend, and her family— seven seas knows how Roll managed to drag him into these things. These had been pleasant encounters, but nothing worth following up on, and certainly not worth 'reconnecting' over.

Well…

No, those weren't his only encounters. There'd been the drowning child he'd saved, the family who'd left in a rush on that flying— on a _helicopter_, these humans who'd crashed into his life and then vanished just as quickly.

Was it possible the child was now old enough track him down like this, to send a message? Humans grew much faster than mernavi, that much he knew, but he also knew they were helpless— dependent— for much of their youth. Navi could download literacy applications straight out the egg capsule, but humans developed those abilities later, and Blues hadn't the slightest clue how old one needed to be to send him a written message. And if it wasn't the child, if it was their parents or sibling… why now? Why wait so long?

He hesitated, then wrote an equally concise reply.

* * *

Not only was it possible, but Blues was surprised by how much the kid had grown in just five years. He'd more than tripled in size. This boy, Enzan, stood alone on the pier and regarded Blues with a steely look. It was hard to tell what he was thinking.

Then he bowed, stiff with his hands at his side. He was composed, dignified beyond his years. Formal.

"Hello, it is a pleasure to meet you. I am Ijuuin Enzan. Please, remember me favorably."

Japanese was spoken fairly commonly on the island, but his accent was not local. Blues remembered the large leisure ship— the _yacht_, and made an educated guess: he must one of the many, many 'summer home' crowd, living on the island only part time.

Fortunately, Blues was a practical navi, and in addition to the four major official Pacific and eighteen most commonly spoken mernavi languages, he had downloaded packs for several of the major human languages of the south Pacific. So he knew Japanese, as well as English, Hawaiian, Filipino, Indonesian, Hiri Motu, Solomons Pijin, and Mandarin.

Being halfway out of the water made it difficult to bow back, so he simply offered a curt nod. "Blues."

The Hikari brothers or Roll would have been engaging, excited to meet this new person, eagerly accepting. Blues, on the other hand, struggled with what was effortless for his friends. When it came to _action_ he was sure and decisive, but when it came to _people_… his apprehension often came across as stiff and wary. Usually he counted on the other person picking up the slack, compensating for his social awkwardness.

"Thank you for saving my life."

"Just doing my job."

Blues neglected to mention he'd yet to be formally inducted into the job he was training for, much less expected to carry it out alone.

Silently, they measured up one another. Then, Enzan's gaze fell to the weapon on the navi's hip.

The change in his expression was subtle. A flicker of excitement in his eyes, a slight flush of red across his ears, the almost imperceptible curl of the corner of his lips. "Is that… a sword?"

"Yes."

No longer able to maintain his aloof appearance, Enzan broke into a grin.

"Cool."

"Yeah, it is."

This kid was not bad. Certainly more agreeable than Roll's human friend (in Blues' opinion), and…

…oh.

He'd just made a friend— his own human friend— hadn't he?


	2. a child realizes adults are fallible

**"the moment a child realizes adults are fallible"**

* * *

Technically he shouldn't have Kalinka there at work, or let Forte in through the mernavi's employee entrance to loiter in the hospital entryway, but it was one of those technicalities that went unenforced. He took advantage of this to have a family lunch, since dinners were a little too impractical.

Kalinka had taken off her sandals and rolled up her pants legs so she could sit on the edge of the pool and splash her feet in the water, idly kicking, her cheeks puffed and mouth open as she tried to chew down the entirely-too-large bites of her sandwich.

"I just don't get how you can live like that. Gravity always pushing you down, fighting to balance on those creepy spindly legs."

Forte was leaning on the edge, head propped on his left hand, casually sipping fuel as he complained about how absurd and bothersome humans were. (Present company excepted, of course.)

"You sure talk a lot of trash," she said without guile, mumbling through a mouthful of food. After swallowing a couple times, she continued, "For someone who got adopted by the first human they met."

Forte lifted his head and blinked at her, like a cat registering a bird outside the window, before deciding it wasn't worth the effort.

"I've had encounters with humans before. Dr. Cossack wasn't the first," he replied with a sneer.

It left Dr. Cossack with an unpleasant crawling sensation, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

Kalinka's eyes flicked towards the scar branded across his half-submerged chest.

"Is that how come you…" She started, then caught herself and fell silent. She was at that delicate age where she was balanced on unsteady social graces, growing out of a young child's tactlessness, still so unsure how to smoothly recover from awkward missteps or blunders. (Some people never learned. Kalinka was figuring it out, but it was a process, built upon repeatedly putting one's foot in mouth and then removing it.)

There was a heavy feeling of uneasiness that hung in the space between them, awkward seconds slipping by.

Forte's sneer vanished.

"Don't ask questions you don't want the answer to," he said, and the lack of an edge to his voice made it a piece of matter-of-fact advice instead of a warning.

Not sure what to do, she took another giant bite and chewed aggressively, face burning.

* * *

"If you ever want to talk about it…" Dr. Cossack had told him once.

"I really don't," Forte had replied.

But Mikhail was a smart man. He knew what he needed to know: that Forte's parents were dead, that the massive scar emblazoned across his chest was related, that he'd carried around an anger and resentment like it was all that had ever kept him warm at night— raw like the edges of a snapped bone that hadn't knit together quite right, that his dislike and distrust of humans was buried in something more than just ignorance or bigotry. Dr. Cossack could put together the pieces and fill in the gaps.

Where his daughter was stumbling her way through these sort of socially awkward situations, however, he was quite deft at handling them. He patiently and expertly picked away at Forte's defenses whenever the opportunity presented itself. They'd get there eventually.

'Eventually' came on a warm summer day. One of the handy things about being a marine biologist with a mernavi son was that Forte could scout out locations for him better than any satellite or tracer or human-built robot submersible could. Dr. Cossack was still working with mackerel, but he was hoping to get funding for a study on bluntnose sixgill sharks, and had some promising responses. In anticipation of the study, he'd taken a small sailing dinghy out to go snorkeling among reef whitetips and hammerheads. He needed to get back into a shark state of mind.

It was a nice dive, and they'd both had fun, even though Forte didn't quite match Dr. Cossack's enthusiasm for sharks. Getting ready to head back to shore, Forte had climbed up to spend a few minutes lounging on the deck. He'd laid there, hands tucked behind his head— it couldn't be comfortable, lying back, with those crests in the way like that— when he suddenly sat up.

"How much longer will you live?"

"Eh?" Dr. Cossack blinked in surprise.

"You guys live, what, like fifty years? How much more time do you have?"

He laughed. "We live a little longer than that. I hope to get another sixty, but realistically, at least another forty years. Barring any unexpected accidents or cancer."

"What's cancer?"

"It's a disease that organic creatures can get. Cells grow out of control, forming tumors, eating away organs…"

Forte tried to look like he had any clue what Dr. Cossack was talking about.

"A tumor is a mass," he said, pantomiming a round shape. "An unnatural growth."

"Oh. So if you don't get a cancer, or killed, then I get sixty years."

"_Maybe_. Hopefully." Of course, those last ten or twenty years… it would be hard to say how much he could even interact with the water-dwelling navi during his twilight years, but this wasn't really the time or place to get into any of that.

"Better than I got with the others," Forte replied with a huff. It earned a questioning look, but before Dr. Cossack could ask, he went right ahead. "You know how… how you can understand something and still not really believe it? I _knew_ they could die, everyone dies, but I never _believed_ it would happen. Then my Auxiliary—" he paused, brows furrowed, tip of his tail switching in concentration. "—you don't have a word for it. She was the third out of three."

"Well, we usually call our maternal parents 'mother'…"

"She didn't create the initialization chip for me. My Primary— my dad— did."

Dr. Cossack blinked several more times. He _really_ needed to do a more in-depth reading of mernavi reproduction, because he understood what Forte had said just as much as Forte had understood Dr. Cossack's explanation of cancer.

Instead of elaborating, however, Forte got back on topic.

"When she died, it became real."

"I'm sorry."

He shrugged— another gesture learned from humans. "I don't really remember. It's frustrating, actually, how little I remember about any of them, and the… _lack_ of…" He paused, struggling. "It was so long ago, I don't miss them. Do you understand? I feel like I should, like there's something wrong with me because I should miss them and grieve for them, but there's just this… this…"

"Resentment?"

"Yes!" Then he paused again, this time because he abruptly realized how uncomfortable the air was as his plating dried off. "Hang on, it's getting too hot for this." With that, he threw himself back into the water.

Dr. Cossack approached the side of the boat, hanging one arm lazily over the hull. Forte surfaced after a moment, swimming alongside.

"…so, that was… I think… a sea monster killed her." He gave Dr. Cossack a strange look. "I don't remember _it_, actually, just what it did to her. It was— not a good death. A few years later, the other two, my Primary and Secondary, they…" He traced his fingers along the deep groove of the scar. "…they were killed by some humans, I don't know why. Illegal fishing or smuggling or something, and didn't want anyone disrupting their operation. I'm not even sure if I was just caught in the crossfire, or if they tried to kill me, too, but failed. Guess it doesn't matter."

For a little while, Dr. Cossack didn't reply. He was too far to actually reach Forte, but stretched his hand out anyway, as if symbolically offering a comforting touch. "I'm so sorry," was all he could really think to say. Sometimes, even those skilled in social graces could find themselves wanting.

"It's fine." Then, thinking it over, Forte said, "I've been alone for longer than not. Sixty years isn't bad, I'll take it."

Dr. Cossack just laughed, but there was a mournful note in his voice.

* * *

A/N: I'd love to hear prompts & suggestions for this fic, if you have any.

Bluntnose Sixgill Sharks are pretty neat! When studied they were more interested in the researchers robot submersibles than the bait, because they're curious about the electrical equipment. :)


	3. Ebb Tide

**Ebb Tide**

* * *

One rock, precariously balanced on top of another, slid out from under her foot the moment she put her weight on it. Arms flailing, Meiru stumbled, splashing in the water as she took several frantic steps forward in a desperate bid to regain her balance.

It worked. (Barely.) Straightening up, she reached back to grab her bucket.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, thanks," she replied. Seconds later Meiru realized with a start that she hadn't seen anyone else around the tide pool…

…and the voice she heard was very robotic sounding.

Cautiously, she worked her way over to where the stranger was, and grinned. "Um, hi!"

Sure enough, it was a mernavi.

Not just a navi, either, another girl! Or… at least… Meiru thought they were probably a girl. They _looked_ like one, pink all over with long blonde 'hair' and golden ribbon-like streamers from her helm. Well… pink for girls and blue for boys was a human thing, and even then boys could wear pink, too, just like she often wore blue, so that really didn't mean anything…

Her eyebrows knit together as she focused. She just had a feeling about it, that was all.

The navi looked a little surprised, too.

"H-hi there!"

"I'm Meiru. Nice to meet you!"

"My name's Roll." The mernavi smiled, somewhat hesitant. "I've never met a human kid before!"

"Me too! Wait— I mean—"

Roll laughed, but it was a good-natured, not a mocking laugh, and Meiru couldn't help but join in. "I know what you meant. What are you up to?"

"Collecting shells and urchins and, um, starfish."

"Oh, so am I! Just shells, though." Roll gave her a curious look. "What will you do with the starfish? They can't live out of water very long, they'll get dried up."

Meiru waded deeper into the shallows, and found an outcropping of stones that she could sit on. "Yeah, I know. I got an aquarium at home. I like to collect them for a couple days and, and, make notes in my journal and, study them. And take pictures. Then I let them go back where I found them. Our teacher said it's important to put them back in their, um, native habitat."

"Oh, cool. I wish I had a pet."

"They're not really pets," Meiru said. "But I do have some pet hermit crabs." They were actually her mother's hermit crabs, 'rescued' from tourist kiosks years before Meiru was born. The oldest one was at least fifteen years and bigger than Meiru's fist. "Are you a girl?" She blurted out. "It's just, you're really pretty and you look like a girl…"

This earned another laugh. "Yes. Sort of. We're a little different from you guys, but my frame type is what you'd call a girl." Between the shows and movies she'd watched with Saito and Netto, and having spent enough time around dolphins, Roll knew more about those differences than Meiru did.

"Oh, okay." There was a half second pause. "What's a frame type?"

"Ummmm… it's like… how our… body is?" Roll faltered, she'd never had to explain this to anyone, and wasn't quite sure how to put it into words. "I'm a repair type, so are my parents. And my best friend is a combat type, his brother is a, um, a worker type that you'd call a boy, and _their_ parents are a worker boy kind and a worker girl kind, and…"

She saw that Meiru's eyes had glazed as all of this went right over her head.

"It's— um, I'm not explaining it very well. Sorry."

"That's okay." Then she grinned. "How old are you? I'm eight!"

"I just turned twenty seven."

Meiru nearly fell over in surprise. "Wow. But you're still a kid!"

"Yeah, we don't grow up the same way." Roll tried to do the math in her head, but she couldn't remember exactly how the numbers compared. "I… I think we're around the same age. Maybe I'm a little older," she gave her a wink, "but you'll catch up quick."

Meiru was silent for a moment, her mind working. Then she scrambled to her feet. "Hang on, I'll be right back."

She headed towards the shore and grabbed the forgotten bucket of shells (and other found treasures). Returning moments later, she dug out a particularly lovely murex shell and offered it to Roll.

"Here! So you can remember when we met."

"Thank you," Roll replied graciously, clutching the shell to her chest. "Do you have an email address, Meiru?"

"Uhhh…. yes. But I'm not supposed to give it out."

Thinking it over, Roll nodded in understanding. "That's probably a good idea. Maybe you can ask your parents, and let me know next time…"

Meiru lit up at the words 'next time'. "Yeah! Um, here?"

"Sure!"

They made the arrangements, promising to meet at the same place in a few days, and went their separate ways.

* * *

"Did you catch up to the latest episode of High Sea Musical?"

"Not yet. But my mom and I went to see the new Spider-Verse movie."

"Lucky," Roll said. "It'll be a few months before it's available for download here." Then she gave Meiru a sly look. "Legally, that is."

With a playful laugh, Meiru placed a hand on her chest in mock offense. "You would _never_ pirate files, would you?" She asked teasingly.

"I wouldn't _dream_ it," she replied with a giggle. Normally Roll dealt honestly, and really wouldn't illegally download movies and shows, but she wasn't sure she could wait long enough for the latest Spider-Verse sequel to work its way through the proper channels.

She would pay for the authorized copy later, of course.

…probably.

"Don't tell me any spoilers before then!" Roll warned. Not that Meiru would do it on purpose, but it was hard to keep the excitement to herself. It was challenging enough as it was avoiding spoilers online. Not wanting to tempt fate, she changed the subject. "You said you were working on a new song?"

Meiru grabbed the personal terminal hanging from the lanyard around her neck. Her parents had gotten her a case, but it was only water resistant— good for rainy days or splash from the faucet when she left her P.E.T. on the edge of the sink to wash her hands. She'd had to save up to buy a truly waterproof case, one that could survive a trip with her in the water, or an accidental drop into the sea (thus the lanyard). It took a lot of discipline to save enough, her parents didn't believe in allowances, but it was also the best investment she'd made in her young life.

"Oh, yeah. It's still a work in progress, so don't judge too harshly."

The boogie board bobbed under her as she shifted her weight.

Digital messaging was easier, but both girls preferred face-to-face communication. Sometimes they met at the tide pools— their 'stomping grounds' over the past couple years— other times they hung out at the pier closest to Meiru's home, or, like today, she would take a boogie board out into the shallows and meet Roll there.

She played the first segment, a snatch of music from a larger, decidedly incomplete music composition. "And here's a part from the middle," she said as she cued up another short clip.

"That's really good!"

It wasn't. Not really. But Meiru was getting better, each song showed adjustments and improvements over the one before, even if they were only small changes. In the meantime, it allowed her to flex her creative muscles, and more importantly, it was _fun_.

Roll was very supportive, offering encouragement and sometimes suggestions. She hummed part of the tune, repeating it a few times. "Do you have any ideas how to bridge the two parts?"

"Nuh uh." Meiru shook her head 'no'.

"Well, maybe something like…" She hummed a few notes, then 'da da da'd through the parts she hadn't figured out yet, then continued to hum.

It took focus to listen to the musical notes and not the actual sound that Roll was making. It was more of a buzzing noise than anything, somewhere between 'insect' and the whine of 'electrical feedback'. Needless to say, the gulf between human and mernavi music was almost as wide as the one between human and mernavi language. Meiru didn't care for the sound at all, but she was grateful for the help, and had learned to parse what she needed from Roll's demonstrations.

She just needed to focus.

It was easier when Roll came up with lyrics instead, but that could be a mixed bag at times. The navi was just as inclined to write serious, heartfelt, romantic lyrics as she was to write goofy pun-filled parody songs. It reminded Meiru of her mother's habit of bursting out into spontaneous cheesy little songs.

"I think that could work." She whistled back the tune Roll had given her, then mulled it over for a moment. "Yeah… I think it'll work." Whistling it again, she wove the tune into her own pieces, adding to it as she went along.

"Nice!"

"Yeah." Meiru flashed Roll a mischievous grin. "We make a great team, just like Miles and Gwen did when they got together to defeat—"

"Nooo! No spoilers!" Roll cried.

* * *

A/N: When they first meet, Roll is around ten - eleven in "human years".

**Bonus mernavi show ideas:**

Sura: DuckTales = DolphinTales.

Jixie: Shell-Ra. Sturgeon Universe. One Punch Man-o'-War. My Little Seahorse. Jojo's Baleen Adventure. High Sea Musical. Atlantic Time. SpongeBob SquarePants, which is exactly the same as it is in our world, no changes.


	4. Storming the Sand Castle

**Storming the Sand Castle**

* * *

"Come with me."

"_Why?_"

The real question was why he even bothered to ask. Serenade's only response was a sly look, a knowing smile and a mischievous glint in their eyes.

With a sound of disgust, Forte went along. He made a point to express his annoyance, from the sour face to the tense body language to the huffs and groans. Still, he _did_ follow despite all the fuss, figuring there was a fifty-fifty chance Serenade would get into something interesting.

The gamble did not pay off.

Serenade had brought him to meet their adopted family. They'd explained the situation— although it took a few tries, because Forte would cover his audio receptors and growl over Serenade, or disconnect from the broadcast communication network, or just physically bail out on them.

He'd gotten the gist of it, though. Serenade had adopted the young Kimie Shiraizumi, who grew up, got married, and started her own family. Her son, Mamoru Urakawa, was something like a nephew or little brother to the mernavi. What Forte couldn't understand is why Serenade continued to be a part of the family, given that Kimie no longer required their support.

(When Kalinka and then her children and grandchildren were his last tie to Mikhail Cossack, then he would get it.)

Mamoru was waiting for them on the beach. Forte stayed back in the ocean while Serenade went out onto the sand. Mernavis could slither around on land sufficiently enough, but there was no grace. It was difficult and awkward. It was irritating enough watching a powerful navi like Serenade lower themself like that…

To make matters worse, Mamoru was the embodiment of everything Forte hated about humans and navi. Where Serenade saw courage in the face of extraordinary difficulties, the resolve, the strength and will of a child who had looked death in the eye and said 'not today'… Forte saw weakness, a pitiful existence, coddled by a civilization that bred frailty and impotence.

Uncaring, cruel nature weeded out those who weren't strong enough.

Never mind that the very same civilization had saved Forte's own life, or that Mamoru couldn't help the congenital heart condition any more than Forte could have helped the typhoon.

He lurked in the waves and watched as Serenade sat next to the boy, chatting about whatever. _Whatever_. It's not like he was curious or anything, or needed the reassurance of seeing another mixed navi and human pod, or cared in the slightest.

Serenade chuckled dryly when Forte gave up and pinged them over broadcast com.

"What are you doing out there? It's taking forever!"

"Why don't you get your tail over here and find out?" They left the broadcast on speaker and used English for Mamoru's sake, although Forte spoke in their native language.

"[No. Ugh! Why are you wasting your time with this pathetic two-legged thing…!]"

"Now, now, be nice."

"[Come on Serenade! You've been with that digi-barnacle long enough. Let's go.]"

Mamoru frowned slightly in concentration.

He had a strong interest in mernavis— and no wonder, as Serenade had always been a part of his life— and expressed an interest in being an interpreter when he grew up. What sort of ten year old dreams of being that, and not a firefighter or an astronaut?

Serenade had gladly started teaching Mamoru some of the major navi languages, starting with Low Pacifian. Since children pick up new languages fairly quickly, he was able to understand much of what was said… most of the time.

He wasn't exactly fluent yet, however, and Forte's accent made him squint as he tried to work out the words.

"They sound funny," Mamoru said. It was an observation, given without malicious intent.

Still, Forte didn't take it well.

"[What did he say!?]"

Serenade ignored him, keeping their attention on the child. "Yes, he does." Then, with an expression that was nothing short of devious, they asked, "Would you like to learn another word today?"

Mamoru perked up. "Okay…"

They told him Forte's name in Pacifian.

Fooling with the text-to-speech program on his personal terminal, Mamoru repeated it back.

"Good, close, but listen carefully," and then Serenade said Forte's name again.

"What's it mean?"

"It means 'imbecile'." They were teasing, of course, pushing the other navi's buttons after he'd been such a pill. "A literal translation—"

"[Serenade! That does it!]" Forte seethed over the broadcast.

"—would be 'a head full of jellyfish'. As you know, jellyfish are simple creatures, without a nervous system—"

"[You're dead!]"

"—nor a brain."

Moments later Forte burst out from the waves onto the beach. He fired in Serenade's direction, but it was a warning shot and intentionally missed, sand exploding everywhere and leaving a deep ashy pit where the blast landed. Serenade lunged, grabbing Forte's cannon and twisting his arm to the side. "Fire that again and you lose it."

What followed was nothing short of pure buffoonery. Both navi were accomplished fighters… in the ocean. On land, where they were graceless and it was difficult and awkward to move around, the two writhed and flailed and rolled across the beach. There was punching, shoving, biting, hitting each other with their tails. Forte yanked on Serenade's streamers, Serenade grabbed Forte's crest and jabbed him in the eye. Although both fought with zeal, neither was trying to _truly_ hurt the other— just rough them up a bit.

With a quiet dignity that did not befit the occasion, Mamoru sat in his wheelchair and watched the free entertainment of two idiots pummeling each other.

Ultimately Serenade was stronger, quicker, and more skilled. Forte was a sore loser, hissing and grumbling as he made a panting sound, attempting to run air through his systems to cool off, something which might've worked if he hadn't been fighting.

"Yield!" Serenade told him, keeping him pinned for another minute. Forte made no verbal acknowledgment, but after a few moments of silently glowering, he acquiesced just to make them get off him. Which they did… but kept him restrained with an armlock just in case. "Since you already came out onto the beach, you should say hello to Mamoru before you leave."

"Hi, Forte!" Mamoru waved, not the least bit surprised by Serenade's victory.

"[No,]" Forte said.

"Be polite!"

"[No, _thank you_.]"

Serenade idly thumped his head into the sand. "You yielded."

Seeing that Serenade wasn't about to let him go when he really wanted to get out of the armlock, Forte heaved out a deep sigh of exasperation.

"'Hello Mamoru'," Forte said, scowling. "[Now let me go, you brute!]"

How Serenade was the brute when Forte was the one who'd attacked, they didn't even bother to ask. They let go.

After the sulking navi dragged himself back into the ocean, Mamoru looked questioningly at Serenade.

"That guy's supposed to be your friend?"

Serenade shrugged. "He's an acquired taste."

* * *

**Bonus Omake**

* * *

**True Facts About the Humans (According to Forte)**

"Humans live on land, which is vastly inferior to the ocean. 71% of the Earth's surface is covered by water, so evolving for land habitats is both stupid and wildly inefficient."

"They travel by walking on two legs that can barely support them, hampered by gravity, which is such a clunky and slow method of transport that they had to invent machines to cart around their gross bodies. Compared to swimming, they are way behind."

"Their bodies are weak and flabby. They do not have any armor like a mernavi. They do not have insulating blubber like a whale. They do not have [-_untranslatable_-] skin like a shark. They cover their vulnerable bodies with decorative material that does not protect them. They have no built-in weapons or defenses. Even their fangs are laughable."

"Air is dry so they are dry, it's disgusting. Also they smell weird."

"Their eyesight is poor and their echolocation is weak. Their hearing is very good, because sound travels better in air than in water. In spite of that, they are limited in their ability to communicate. The human brain is too simple to understand mernavi language."

"Humans have developed some technology but it is unbelievably primitive compared to mernavi. They are organic, not cybernetic, so all their technology is just a cheap rip-off of ours."

"They produce a vast amount of inferior and stupid entertainment. It appeals to idiots like Rockman and his doofus brother Netto."

"Anyway, those are the main points."

—

_Forte got an 'F' on this report, but more than anything he was confused how this even happened, because he's too cool for fish school and doesn't go. Is this some elaborate prank by Netto? (Yes.)_

* * *

A/N: This was a response to the question "How much does Forte know about humans?" which Sura answered earnestly and I piggybacked with this goofiness. Silly Forte, sound travels better in water!


	5. If You Keep Swimming it Don't Seem Far

**If You Keep Swimming it Don't Seem Far**

On the cusp of twelve years old, with the first trickle of adolescence building inside her, Meiru Sakurai had stumbled into her first real crush.

She was surrounded by peers and classmates who'd become what was known in common parlance as 'boy crazy'. Everywhere she turned were wistful conversations about all the usual suspects: handsome young actors and musicians with soulful eyes and soft lips and floppy bangs. Their pictures decorated bedroom walls and digital dashes, and haunted many of their daydreams. But Meiru? She wasn't impressed.

The object of her affections, it so happened, was not actually a boy. Or even a human, for that matter.

Or organic.

That didn't stop the feelings, equal parts exciting and painful.

She knew enough to know that romance for mernavi was different than it was for humans, but here she was at a disadvantage. Roll had shown her some navi movies and games, but it was hard to find anything translated. It was much easier for a navi to download a language pack and consume human entertainment, which meant Roll had a pretty good grasp of human romance— or at least, the glamorized fictional version of it— flowers and chocolates and fancy dates and kissing and terribly, terribly written love triangles.

(Roll was so relieved mernavi didn't have that sense of exclusivity. "Why don't they all just form a pod together and have children?" she'd asked Meiru, who was equally confused for completely different reasons. It was a good thing, because deep down inside she was pretty sure that barring an unexpected break in bonds or tragic death, that she was going to end up having to share Rock with Forte. While Hollywood rules dictated that she would win that 'love triangle', Roll lived in the real world.)

(It would take the better part of a century, but she was right.)

Meiru, on the other hand, didn't know much about how navis courted each other, much less express intimate affection.

"Do you guys kiss?"

"What?"

"Do— you know. Do mernavis kiss each other."

Roll gave her a concerned look. "Why do you ask?"

"I was just wondering. Sheesh."

But she was blushing furiously.

* * *

The discovery of their _tenuous_ relationship— Meiru was friends with Roll and Netto and by extension Rock and Blues and Enzan and kinda sorta Forte, and Kalinka was Forte's stepsister and friends with Rock and Netto and by extension Roll (and Meiru) and Blues (and Enzan)— was genuinely the worst thing that ever happened to Forte.

(Okay, that was a gross exaggeration. Still, the effects were shockingly deep and far-reaching.)

Kalinka was two years older than Meiru and Enzan, so they didn't share any classes. Were it not for their mutual mernavi friends, they may never have interacted. Except now they _did_, and between Kalinka and Rockman, Forte found himself unwittingly involved in 'fun activities' with 'friends'. These activities were neither fun (in his opinion), nor were the people he was surrounded by anyone he would consider a friend (which was what he kept telling himself).

In addition to getting to roped into some of Rockman's stupid misadventures, he now _also_ got suckered into Kalinka's misadventures— which involved her human buddies, at best…

…at worst, the entire miserable crew of incompetent morons, both the air-breathers and the wastes of fuel alike.

He was proud to be a part of the Cossack pod, but some days… some days he wondered if it was really worth it. (All the while pretending as if he didn't enjoy being included, thought of, and cared about, in spite of his being an obnoxious bully.)

At least with Rock there was a chance something exciting might happen. Rockman fancied himself a budding gladiator and sea monster hunter, and occasionally found himself in dangerous situations, with Netto (who wasn't even equipped for combat!) and Blues (who was a competent warrior for his age, even if he lacked Rock or Forte's natural power.) As a group, they could take on cybernetic creatures that none of them could handle on their own… and sure, sometimes they got in over their heads, but as far as Forte was concerned that just made it all the more fun.

And when they were up to more mundane things, then it usually wasn't too hard to goad Rock into some 'friendly' sparring.

Kalinka, on the other hand…

They'd decided to put on a talent show of sorts. Her and Meiru and Roll. Enzan was somehow involved. As was Blues. As was Netto. As was Rock.

Being the one with a good sized saltwater swimming pool in the backyard, Dr. Cossack had generously offered to host _because of course he did_.

He knew better than to ask Forte to participate, but he did insist that he attend the show.

It was tacky. It was pathetic. It was _embarrassing_. Meiru was not as good of a musician as she thought she was, and neither Roll nor Kalinka were particularly accomplished singers. Blues' sword-fighting demonstration was clumsy and he was so wracked with stage fright that he dropped the sword, not once, but twice. Netto had cajoled his brother into doing some sort of synchronized swimming dance thing, but they'd practiced in the ocean so the pool wasn't large enough, and the last minute changes to the routine were nothing short of a disaster.

In summation, it was exactly the sort of production you could expect from a group of eager but inexperienced ten-to-thirteen year olds (and the navi equivalent thereof).

Parents were there. The Hikaris, including the pod leader Tadashi. Roll's parents, of course. The Sakurais. Blues' Secondary, and his weapon martial arts instructor. Only Enzan was solo, his chauffeur opting to stay in the car.

They milled around afterwards. Socializing. Eating. Joking. Humans dipped in the pool for a swim. Mernavis scurried across the lawn. A card game broke out, followed charades. This went on for _hours_.

Forte wished for death and then wondered if he could make the journey back to the shore by himself. Probably not. Dr. Cossack's house was close to the ocean, but not close enough. (He was still overheating a little too quickly, since the accident. Something he should have checked out, but wouldn't, not until Dr. Cossack found out about it and had a conniption.)

After spending what she felt was an appropriate amount of time with the girls, Meiru broke away and joined Netto, Rock, and Blues. She made an honest effort to be slick about it, fooling absolutely no one— except for the clueless Hikari brothers, that was. Sitting at the poolside, legs tucked to the side in a contorted position that made the adults both wince and jealous of a time their joints weren't so stiff, she proceeded to chat up Netto for the next hour or so.

She giggled a little too much and blushed a little too hard, but damned if Netto clued in at any point.

The evening wore on, and as things wrapped up, the ride services came by to pick up the various mernavi families. As the Hikari crew prepared to leave, Meiru said goodbye to Rock, then to Netto, then leaned over and planted a quick, nervous kiss on his cheek.

Bewildered, Netto cast a questioning look at his parents, unsure how to react. They weren't much help. Both Yuuichiro and Haruka could only laugh.

Thankfully, Meiru's own parents made no comment.

After the Hikaris left, but before Meiru's family was ready to go, Kalinka pulled Enzan to the side. "They're soooo cute together, aren't they?"

Enzan looked confused and didn't reply. After thinking it over for a minute, he approached Meiru.

"A relationship with Netto would not be in your best interest," he said softly. It was a well-intended, if clumsy and misguided, attempt to save his friend from heartbreak. "It could not possibly work out in the long run. Simply put, there is an issue of compatibility. Physically, they—" …and then he began giving a rather candid breakdown of the anatomical differences between humans and mernavi.

It was hard to say who exactly was more horrified: poor, innocent Meiru, Mr. and Mrs. Sakurai, or the long-suffering Dr. Cossack. "Er, Enzan," he intervened. "There is a time and a place, and I'm afraid this is neither."

"Why would that be, Dr. Cossack?"

"Ah, well, this is not an appropriate conversation for _children_, or mixed company…"

"My sincere apologies," Enzan replied, although it was clear he didn't find the topic embarrassing (or amusing, for that matter). He was only stating facts, after all.

Kalinka, meanwhile, was doubled over in uncontrollable laughter, clutching her sides as she started to cramp, and Blues chuckled softly to himself.

Although Forte couldn't pretend to give a damn about Meiru and Netto's love life, he was quietly amused by the strangely dramatic reaction Enzan had gotten. Mernavi didn't shelter their young from the facts of life, so the details of their reproduction was hardly a secret, and anyone who spent more than five minutes around dolphins, walruses, and other deviants, knew all about mammals' disgusting spawning methods.

Meiru was quite flustered. "I… I just…" she said, stammering before she turned away. "I don't need to explain myself."

Unfortunately Enzan was right, although not so much because of physical incompatibility… but because she would be pushing forty by the time Netto and his brother started their version of puberty.

For now, though, it was a harmless childhood crush, and there was no reason to poke holes in it.

It would lead to some terribly awkward conversations with her mother over the next few years, however. If nothing else, it was an incident that she and Enzan could look back on as adults and laugh at, before quickly changing the subject.

* * *

A/N: "(It would take the better part of a century, but she was right.)"

Um. Would, er, would anyone want to... read this? _Update:_ Finished and posted 'Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea' but unlike the rest of this series, it's rated M and is not an all-ages gen fic.


	6. Mele Kalikimaka (Part 1)

**Mele Kalikimaka (Part 1)**

* * *

\- A/N: These two chapters take place one year after chapter 5. Meiru and Enzan are 12, Kalinka is 14, and the merkids are still the equivalent of 11-12 year olds. (Aside from the introductory flashback, where Meiru is 9.)

\- Surprise! This "chapter" ended up so long I had to split it in two! Posting them together before ̶S̶a̶t̶u̶r̶n̶a̶l̶i̶a̶ Christmahanukkwanzikah.

* * *

"What's 'Christmas'? _What's 'Christmas'!?_"

She was nine years old and had been friends with Roll for nearly a year when the topic first came up. Poor Meiru was caught completely flat-footed. Sure, she'd had a few classmates that didn't celebrate— Mick did something called Hanukkah instead; Lauren was one of those Jehovah's and didn't do birthdays or _anything_. But they still knew what Christmas was about. They understood the presents and reindeer and Christmas trees, even if they didn't believe in those things.

Roll hadn't the slightest clue.

Stunned silent, Meiru opened and closed her mouth a few times, trying and failing to find the words to explain. They'd had some culture clashes, mostly on Meiru's part… but nothing this big.

"You… you… at least you know who Santa Claus is, right?"

With a grin, Roll shrugged sheepishly, something she'd learned from her human friend.

Meiru slapped her hand on her forehead.

"Jeez Louise!"

* * *

They were hanging out on the pier, having been chased off by a surly dock worker a few hours before, only to reconvene later in the same spot.

"I can't wait for Christmas," Meiru said absently. Hard to believe it'd been three whole years since she'd had to give Roll a crash course on the biggest, most important holiday in the world (as far as Meiru was concerned).

"Yeah, I guess." Kalinka seemed oddly unenthusiastic about it. "I wish I could stay down here for a change. I mean, Mom and my step dad really go nuts with the decorations and stuff, which is a lot of fun. But… it's just not the same."

Enzan shrugged. "My family doesn't celebrate."

"Oh! Right, because you're… uh…" Some part of Kalinka's brain screamed 'Abort mission! Abort mission!' but she was already in too deep. "…Buddhist, yeah?"

He raised one eyebrow ever so slightly.

"Shinto, sort of. Agnostic really."

"Those are different kinds of human religions?" Netto asked.

"Yeah," said Rock, "we heard about the one before, remember? Miroku was a Buddhist monk."

"That anime is not even a little realistic." Enzan pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling slowly. They'd been over this before. They'd go over it again. The young mernavi knew cartoons and movies were not an accurate depiction of 'surface life', but the fact of the matter was that entertainment had inadvertently shaped their ideas and opinions. The Hikari boys _still_ not-so-secretly believed that enough helium balloons tied to a house could make it fly. Not in the mood to retread this topic, he pushed onward. "'Agnostic' isn't a religion, it's the opposite. It means I know there's no way to prove or disprove the existence of god."

"That's sad," said Kalinka.

"It's _not_ sad."

Netto looked uncomfortable. "I can't imagine— don't you—" He picked at a peeling splinter on the wooden dock. "I wouldn't know what to do without the Seven Sisters watching over me and Rock—"

All three of their human friends stared, none willing to ask.

"They're the— the 'spirits'? 'Souls'? Um… you know." Netto was hesitant, because he realized the words he used weren't the most accurate translation. "The spirits of the seawater. The ingredients for— uh, the source of all life."

"Aqua," Rock started rattling them off out of pure habit, "Chloride, Sodium, Sulfate, Magnesium, Calcium, Potassium." There was a lilting quality to the way he said the names, almost like it was a hymn.

"Water maybe, but the ocean isn't the source of life—" Enzan started.

"Yeah it is," said Kalinka, interrupting. "From like, an evolutionary point."

"…Okay. In that case, yes."

"Anyway!" Netto continued. "They're not the biggest or most powerful, but for those of us who live in the ocean? The Sisters are the most important."

"Speak for yourself," Forte scoffed, finally joining in the conversation.

The other four navis stared, none willing to ask.

Finally Blues caved. "I knew it. I _knew_ it. You are in one of those weird death cults, aren't you?"

"Ugh." He made a rude gesture. "Don't be stupid. I'm not a—" Then he used a word in their mernavi language, one that had no English equivalent (or even a 'close enough' approximation), the name of one of said doomsday groups.

Blues studied him with intense scrutiny, clearly not buying it. "You've mentioned Double-Comet before." He hesitated. "…That's not right. Don't you have a name for him?" He shot Enzan a questioning look, but his friend just shrugged, unsure what they were talking about.

"What, I can't bring it up? He's real, that doesn't mean I think he's going to burn up the ocean, or blow up the planet, or whatever." Then Forte smirked. "And it's 'Duo'."

"Who's Duo?" asked Kalinka.

"He's—" Rock started.

Forte cut him off. "He's like your space Jesus, and now humans are technologically advanced enough, the next time he returns you'll be judged too. If you don't pass? He'll destroy you."

There was a long pause as Kalinka stared, brows furrowed.

"I told you, Forte. Jesus is in _heaven_, not _space_."

"Whatever. Same difference."

"Is he real?" Enzan asked Blues.

"Of course. It—" He made a sound, the sort of mild exasperation that came from accidentally broaching a topic that was deep and complicated, one that couldn't be easily explained.

Rock jumped in to help. "Since the ocean is the source of life, and the land is deadly to our kind— if we were trapped up here— most mernavi are… most of our religions… aren't very fond of the sky, outer space and beyond…"

"Since the ocean is the source of life, and the land is deadly to our kind— if we were trapped up here, I mean— most mernavi are… sorry, I'm not explaining this right. Most of our religions are centered on the ocean, so they aren't very fond of the sky, outer space and beyond…"

"It's where death lives," said Netto, matter-of-factly. He gave a sage nod.

"That's just ignorance and superstition," Blues replied, a slight scowl on his face.

Rock held out his hands. "Duo is a cybernetic being like us, but from the beyond. It looks like a strange star or comet, but it's not, it's him. He comes into orbit every couple hundred years to pass judgment."

"Sounds more like the devil than Jesus," said Kalinka. Which wasn't accurate either, 'passing judgment from on high' was definitely God's domain, but she'd only ever been to church for weddings and funerals hadn't had much exposure to the subject. (Unlike biology and evolution, for which she'd heard so many, many long, in-depth speeches from her father that she generally tuned them out.)

"He's not evil," Forte said. There was a wicked gleam in his eyes. "I hope he tries to destroy us next time he comes, so I can fight him."

"_Space_ is not evil," Blues said, pointedly ignoring Forte.

Roll, Netto, and Rock exchanged glances.

"If you say so." With a playful grin, Rock patted Blues on the head.

He sagged, knowing all too well this was just going to lead to weeks of teasing.

* * *

After that incident with Netto and the navigation system, Enzan no longer allowed their entire group of friends on the yacht. But when it was just the two of them, he'd sneak onto the empty ship, toss down a ladder and let his best friend Blues on board.

Blues was pretty easy going, so a lot of times they did what Enzan wanted, which was okay. He enjoyed helping him practice English, and teaching Enzan sword-fighting techniques actually improved Blues' skills as well. Most of the time, however, they'd work on coding and building custom high-end gaming terminals and playing computer games. Enzan played competitively and his set-ups were tailored to giving him every possible edge.

They were switching out the CPU on his terminal (the one on the yacht— he had another one at home, of course, and at the Ijuuin's residence in Tokyo, and their residence in San Francisco, and…)

"What's this whole situation about you and outer space?"

"Huh?" Blues nearly dropped the board he was holding. "I, umm…"

He should've seen this coming. Neither of them were— well— Blues was introverted and a little shy, sometimes (often) awkward; Enzan was quiet and reserved, and struggled with overcoming a cultural gap. It was something that had drawn them closer.

Still. Enzan was sharp, astute. He could read people pretty well. It was only a matter of time before he'd picked up on how much Blues' interests diverted from his friends.

It took a minute for Blues to sort out his thoughts, carefully selecting the words he wanted, playing them over in his mind. Thankfully, Enzan was also patient, and he didn't push.

"I suppose it wouldn't make sense—" Even after thinking it over first, he still struggled. Why couldn't he express himself easily, effortlessly like Roll, Rock, and Netto could? Or seven seas, even the introverted-but-_not_-shy Forte? "The thing about it is… for us, for mernavi, we…" He gestured vaguely. "A lot of our beliefs stem from the idea that life began in the ocean, but more specifically, that _we_ came from the deepest part of the abyss or even from the cracks in the Earth itself. Many— I guess you'd call them 'creation myths'— say that the blood of the planet spilled out into the ocean and became our ancestors."

Enzan nodded wordlessly.

"If we came from the deep, then we have a special connection with it. The darkest corners of the world. The source of cybernetic life. The surface, the sky, is the polar opposite. It's air, it's light, it's—"

"'Where death lives'," he repeated Netto's earlier statement.

"…right. The anti-ocean." He paused. "You know, when you guys speak of the 'surface of the water', you're really talking about _where air ends_. But we have different terms for it— _where water ends_ and then what's on the other side of that dividing line. Do you follow?"

Looking up from his work, Enzan put down the small screwdriver and regarded Blues for a moment. "Not really, but I think that I understand the spirit of it."

"Even navi who love the surface, that spend a lot of time out of the water, like Roll and the Hikaris… they still have this… deep-seated wariness about the sky and space. The idea of— of being in a plane, of flying like a bird, of exploring the galaxy is terrifying to them." Blues chuckled dryly. "I've never felt that way. I've _never_ been afraid of the sky. I think…"

He paused again, taking another minute to process his thoughts.

"It doesn't matter where you swim, north or south, how far you go. Even the deepest, darkest ravines where water meets magma. The ocean stops at the Earth's mantle. It ends, it's finite. There's a sort of comfort in that. It feels vast and endless, but it's not. And… I think that's what scares other navi about the sky. It truly _is_ infinite. The openness of it, the vastness of the universe, how infinitesimally small we are compared to it all."

"You are speaking of…" he paused, not sure how to say it in English, "…an existential crisis?"

Blues laughed. "Not exactly, but close. That feeling of insignificance."

"We humans don't like that feeling, either. In Japan at least there's an appreciation for… hmm… the fact that life is short makes it all the more precious, there's a sort of beauty in transience. Westerners, not so much."

"Interesting." After another brief pause, he made a gesture of uncertainty. "I find the idea of the infinite, the sky and the galaxy and everything beyond to be exciting. It makes my circulation pump accelerate."

Enzan looked quietly amused. "I think that it's good not having a fear of the unknown. That is an admirable quality, even if— especially if your peers don't understand." Then he gave Blues a slight smile. "When I'm older," when his trust money kicked in and he got an obligatory place on the company executive board, "I promise to help you achieve that dream. A ride in a plane or helicopter is not impossible to arrange."

Thrilled by the prospect but self-conscious in face of his friend's generous offer, Blues laughed nervously. "Thanks."

* * *

There were few things that had ever made such a small but dramatic improvement in Dr. Cossack's quality of life. It was meant for pets, but the water-proof couch cover worked just as well for dripping wet mernavi children who decided to come into the house instead of hanging out in the pool he'd had specifically built for them.

Chairs were do-able but awkward, and Forte had no qualms about sitting or lying on the floor but clearly preferred the couch. He was draped halfway over the armrest, playing a game on his personal terminal.

"Isn't that something you can do in the pool?" Dr. Cossack asked. "I'll be back out in a minute."

"It's too cold," Forte muttered in response. Which was a little preposterous, really. The fact that it was in-ground and nearly thirty-thousand gallons and in a mild climate meant that the water temperature didn't fluctuate all that much.

"Too cold? Weren't you from the Arctic circle?"

"Mmph."

Sighing, Dr. Cossack glanced at the timer and pressed the plunger on his French press— another one of those 'small but dramatic quality of life improvements'— and poured his coffee. Without looking up from the game Forte curled his tail to make enough room for Dr. Cossack, who winced as he sat down on a damp seat, shrugged in resignation, and took a sip from his mug.

"You don't do that Christmas stuff, do you?"

Dr. Cossack choked slightly on his coffee. Sometimes it was impossible to predict what his kids would bring up. "What? Er, no, not really…"

"Kalinka and those other guys were talking about it."

"Ah. Well, in theory it's a celebration of the birth of—"

"Yeah, yeah, I already know about that part."

Dr. Cossack was afraid to ask. Then he remembered that one of the techs in the marine center hospital was a gung-ho evangelist and had made a perhaps ill-advised attempt to show the young navi some bible teachings. (The buggy translation devices had made trying to explain complex theological ideas especially awkward.) Needless to say, Forte was not impressed. "At any rate. It's all very commercialized now, basically just a nice thing to do for kids. It's a bit of a hassle, really, with the tree and everything."

Forte glanced over his shoulder. "What thing with the tree?"

"Oh… well, there's a tradition where you put up a pine tree— that's, er, one of the cone-shaped trees, the kind with needles. They're decorated with little lights and colorful glass globes and tinsel— er, silver strands that look like bristle-worms."

"What's a tree got to do with Jesus and Santa?"

"Santa?" Dr. Cossack echoed. Oh boy. This was one of those things where Forte had heard assorted bits and pieces of something and it was hard to say what he knew, what he didn't, and what he'd come up with on his own to fill in the gaps. "Nothing, really. Many traditions were added over time, some borrowed from other cultures." He scratched the back of his neck. "In places where it gets cold in winter and snows, most trees lose their leaves, but not pines. The use of evergreens ties back to ancient Roman and pagan tree-worship. 'Santa Claus' is a more recent legend. He delivers presents to children and puts them under the tree."

Shifting around to sit up, Forte gave him a look of consternation. "That sounds pretty stupid. You don't do this stuff because Kalinka's not around?"

"…Right." Then Dr. Cossack smiled. "It's not stupid— it's about spending time with family, giving gifts to each other, peace and unity." In theory, at least. These days it was more about buying crap that no one needed out of a sense of obligation. Instead of going there, however, he changed the course of the conversation. "How about you? Are there any mernavi holidays that you celebrate?"

"Yeah." He grinned, although it was an alarmingly mischievous look. "It's not really noticeable here, so close to the equator, but the winter and summer solstice are a big deal— depending on if you're in the north or the south part of the planet."

"Oh?"

"It's very old beliefs… like you were saying, pagan stuff and…" Forte drifted off for a moment, flipping through his vocabulary list for the word that came closest. "…'voodoo'?"

Dr. Cossack laughed. "Okay, sounds interesting."

He began giving a quick run-down of the basic creation myth, the foundation of many mernavi religions, almost dropping his P.E.T. as he gestured. "Since the sky is— you know what, never mind all that. The idea is that sunlight is the opposite of the darkness from the depths, so… the shortest day of the year is sort of a balance between sea and air, dark and light."

"I see. And how is this celebrated?"

"The same way everyone celebrates anything— with feasting and blood sacrifice."


	7. Mele Kalikimaka (Part 2)

**Mele Kalikimaka (Part 2)**

* * *

\- Special thanks to the lovely Achos-Laazov for all her help with the Hanukkah scenes, beta reading those and toddler dialogue.

\- I've never celebrated a single holiday in my life. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ Let me know how I did!

* * *

**DECEMBER 21ST**

* * *

No one actually did blood sacrifices anymore.

(Well, aside from the deep-sea dwellers, the followers of the old gods, who lived their entire lives in the deepest parts of the abyss and never once saw daylight.)

Usually Forte just went out of his way to find a fight to pick on the solstice, because any excuse was a good excuse.

After consulting with Saloma, the interpreter who worked at the mernavi hospital, and the Hikari twin's parents Haruka and Yuuichiro (who he'd developed a good rapport with, which was growing into friendship), Dr. Cossack had put together his own little 'Alvistide' feast. Although they couldn't attend— they were busy hosting their own party— Haruka had generously prepared some extra traditional holiday meals and delivered them to him the day before.

Since most of the other mernavi he knew were likewise spending time with their own friends and family, most of the turnout were fellow humans, several who were confused and thought this was an oddly-themed Christmas party. At the last minute, Forte mentioned some 'other people' were coming, and Mikhail just rolled with it. He had no clue who Mrs. Urakawa was, or what connection she had to Forte, but she brought her son Mamoru and sister Tamako.

He was delighted that Gateman actually came. The navi was a great help in the past. Dr. Cossack had never really been able to make it up to him, and he'd declined other invitations (like to the thing for the kid's talent show they'd done last summer).

"This is nice," Gateman said. "Very thoughtful of you." Then he'd given him a look of quiet amusement. "Next time, I would suggest including libations."

"Libations?"

"Yes. The true meaning of the Alvis Feast is drinking. Drinking and revenge."

"I'm sorry, 'revenge'?"

Hours later, Dr. Cossack was stunned when the elusive and mysterious Serenade arrived, along with a friend named Yamatoman. Forte would spend much of the afternoon talking quietly with them while glaring at Yamatoman or poor Mamoru… who Dr. Cossack was able to piece together was somehow related to Serenade (much like Forte was related to Mikhail himself).

* * *

Serenade never even considered trying to celebrate winter solstice with the Urakawas. When Forte 'accidentally' let slip something about Dr. Cossack's plans, they'd been thrilled— and mentally tail-slapping themself over the fact that they hadn't thought of it first.

Although they weren't crazy about being on land for very long periods, Serenade was always happy to attend any and every event that Kimie invited them to. The love of family and friends outweighed the discomfort of the dry air and the difficulty getting around. Yamatoman used a ride service back to the sea, but Serenade went home with their family.

"We should get you a wheelchair too," Mamoru said with a playful grin, as he watched them crawl up the driveway and awkwardly clamber into the back of his mom's SUV. Tamako gave them a hand, leaning back as a counter-balance.

"Watch out, I might just 'borrow' yours," Serenade replied with a laugh.

Their home was not as well equipped for visiting navi as Dr. Cossack's was, but Kimie was an old hand at this. She had spray bottles of premixed saline solution and jugs of seawater stashed in the pantry. A mernavi could theoretically spend a day or two on land without causing any real harm, but it started getting uncomfortable after only a couple hours. Serenade sat on two layered towels and poured water into their vents as needed, and didn't even have to ask— their adopted 'daughter' periodically sprayed them down so their frame stayed damp.

Of course, Serenade kept up with their family by electronic messages, but face-to-face communication was so much better. After conversing late into the night, and watching a couple episodes of some kids' cartoon that Mamoru was excited to share, Kimie reluctantly shut things down. "C'mon, kiddo, it's way past your bedtime."

"Mooom," he said, protesting.

"It's after eleven. I let you stay up because Serenade's here, but you're going to be such a grouch tomorrow." This wasn't exactly true, Mamoru was a good kid and might get a little fussy from a lack of sleep, but nothing too terrible. He was, however, very ill and needed the rest.

He grumbled a little more— he was still wound up from the party and excitement of having his 'cousin' Serenade there— but headed off to brush his teeth.

"I'll run you back," Tamako said. "When's your thing?"

"Eleven nineteen."

Her face fell. "Oh, no! We won't make it."

Serenade smiled and placed a reassuring hand on her arm.

"It's okay. I'd rather be here with my family. The lights will be there next year."

* * *

That night Dr. Cossack took a small boat out. He wasn't especially fond of late night diving, but he was willing to make an exception here. Likewise, the spot Forte had picked was too close to the surface, not nearly deep enough for this observance. He didn't mention it, but knew it was for his sake.

Disk-shaped lights, on a timer and programmed to set to specific locations for a certain grid effect, and then to automatically collect themselves afterwards, were released. (Why couldn't _humans_ come up with self-cleaning junk like this?) There was a meaning behind the specific pattern and number of lights, but Forte's explanation had been confusing and Mikhail would do his own research later. At exactly 11:19pm they lit up the surrounding ocean, scaring away bewildered fish.

Light in the ocean at the height of darkness in the sky.

While the results may have been the same, the intent was the opposite of human's mid-winter holidays (which were universally to ward off the darkness and encourage the return of sunlight and spring). The act was reciprocal, bringing symmetry and balance.

Haruka had told him that normally prayers were given or songs were sung, but if Forte did anything like that he was too embarrassed to do so out loud.

After about fifteen minutes the disks returned, and Forte packed up and escorted Dr. Cossack back to the boat. There they saw fireworks in the distance, even further out from the island. For a moment Dr. Cossack was captivated by the sight— even more stunning than the underwater display— then gave Forte a confused look.

"A part of the celebrations?"

Forte made a sound of disgust. "It's that demented Sharkman and his pet human. I heard they have a relationship against nature."

Dr. Cossack raised an eyebrow and said nothing.

"They do this every year and they're doing it all wrong. The whole point is that it's dark up here, and light in the water! Idiots. That land-walker must be too scared to dive at night." Then he looked at him and smiled. "Unlike you."

"Well, I'm just happy I could be here."

"…Thank you. This was the best Alvistide I've ever had."

As much as Forte obviously loved his father, it was still rare to get such open verbal gratitude from him. Dr. Cossack smiled warmly and blinked back sentimental tears. "You're quite welcome."

* * *

There was nothing scandalous about Masa and Sharkman's relationship, they were just very good friends. (Even if it had been something more, they were consenting adults of intelligent, sentient species.)

It was Sharkman's idea, and it was at xir insistence, that they did fireworks over the ocean instead of a proper underwater lighting ceremony. Xe wasn't about to risk Masa's life for something as inconsequential as a holiday tradition, and xe wasn't as cocky or reckless as Forte was.

Joining xir human friend in the boat, the two of them held hands and watched flashes of white, yellow, and red burst in the sky, the colorful reflection glittering and dancing on the gently rippling ocean surface.

* * *

**DECEMBER 22ND**

* * *

It was little surprise when Mick trundled in with still damp swim trunks, towel draped around his shoulders, skin coated in sand.

"Tutu!"

"Oh, kid, you're tracking in sand…" Sighing, Dr. Goodall pulled her grandson into a bear hug and stood on her tip-toes to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. "When'd you get so tall!?" She asked the same question every time she saw him. It wasn't fair, these kids grew like weeds. Before long his little sister and baby brother would be taller than her, too, because… well, frankly, who _wasn't?_

Before he could answer, she started steering him in the direction of the bathroom.

"Get a shower and get dressed. Go on sea squirt, hup, hup."

Her daughter-in-law appeared moments later, infant in one arm, cooler in the other.

"Lemme give you a hand there, Leilani."

"Thanks." With one hand now free, she reached down to give her a hug. "Good to see you, Joy."

A mischievous grin crept across her face. "It's not kalua pork, is it?"

Leilani grimaced in embarrassment.

"I'm never going to live that down, am I?"

"Nope."

The rest of the family arrived in spurts. Her sister Lorraine, with husband in tow, one of the nephews, his wife and kids, and some of their friends. Her daughter— recently divorced— and granddaughter— not-so-recently divorced— and great granddaughter. That kid put the 'terrible' in 'terrible two's', and Joy loved it. Excitement! Noise! Havoc! Dr. Cain from work, who never missed the opportunity to crash a holiday party. Her youngest son, who'd hadn't settled down, (but had a kid back on the mainland who none of them had ever met, much to Joy's chagrin), along with the latest girlfriend. Leilani's parents, brother, and her sister's two youngest kids.

Perpetually late, her oldest son Jeff was, as always, the last to arrive.

Dr. Goodall saw all of them often, and babysat whenever she was able, but it was always wonderful to have a full house like this. Over the din and excitement, Jeff began rounding everyone up.

"Dad. Dad. _Dad_." Mick pinched his father's sleeve between his fingers, tugging at his shirt. "Can I do it?"

Jeff gave him a questioning look. "Do you remember how the blessings go?"

He nodded, although there was an unmistakable hesitation. He was going to flub this a little.

"No," said Hannah. Mick's younger sister threw her arms around his neck and dropped her weight, in a desperate bid to take her brother down. "I want to!"

"Hmmmmm." Jeff stroked his chin, pretending to be lost in thought. "How about this? We'll go from oldest to youngest. Tomorrow you can light the menorah at home, which means," he leaned over, whispering conspiratorially, "you get _two_ candles instead of one."

She liked this idea. Grinning, Hannah stuck the tip of her tongue between the gap of her missing front teeth. "And then Baby Dee can do 'em the, the night after!"

"Er, maybe." No, absolutely not, but 'maybe' went over better. "Mommy and I will think about it." Hopefully in three days Hannah would have forgotten.

After everyone settled down, Jeff handed Mick the lighter. Momentarily distracted, he flicked it on and off, because it didn't matter how many times he'd used it before— he was twelve and this was the power of fire in his hands. What twelve year old could resist playing with fire? Not this one, that was for sure. Jeff gently elbowed him.

He lit the shamash and then began stumbling through the blessings.

His Hebrew was atrocious, but Joy couldn't complain… hers wasn't much better. Still, he would've been better off sticking with English. Leilani was silently mouthing the lines, as if she could project them into his mind.

Using the shamash to light the first candle, Mick managed to get through the prayer, visibly relieved when the rest of the family began singing and he could quietly drift into the chorus of voices.

Afterwards Joy and Lorraine headed into the kitchen, frying up latkes in a wok, and heating up the saimin noodles that her daughter-in-law had brought. Green onions, kamaboko, and kimchi swirled around in the broth, a cultural fusion befitting the diverse family that was gathered.

"You should come with us to—" Lorraine started. Jeff stiffened and gave her a slight panicked look.

She waved dismissively. "Eh. You know I only did that crap for Marty's sake."

"Language, please!"

"'Crap' ain't a cuss word," she muttered under her breath.

As conversation and laughter drifted over dinner, Dr. Goodall found herself watching the candles as they flickered and burned, the soft glow of their light reflecting the love and warmth of a crowded home.

* * *

**DECEMBER 23RD**

* * *

"Mele Kalikimaka," Miyu said, holding out a small box.

"It's a couple days early," Sal replied, grinning as she set down the squirming Ren. The toddler made a bee-line for the cat food bowl. Handing the box over to her wife, Miyu went to grab Ren before he could stuff a fistful of kibble into his mouth.

"No! No Mommy!" he cried as she pried the cat food out of his hand. "No! Nooooo!"

Opening the gift, Sal couldn't help but laugh. An orchid pseudo-bulb, and knowing Miyu, it could only be one thing. "Let me guess. Monnierara Millennium Magic 'Witchcraft'?"

"Yep!"

"_How?_ How did you manage to get this exported from the mainland?"

"I had some help from across the pond," Miyu replied cryptically.

"Oh?"

Giving Ren a quick kiss on the forehead, even as he tried to shove his way out of her arms, she approached Sal. "Your dad hit me up on FriendFace."

Sal looked like she'd seen a ghost, dropping the box— pseudo-bulb and all— onto the floor. After an uneasy pause, she knelt down to pick it up. "I…"

"They saw the pictures of our little terror. It's amazing how a _grandkid_ can change their tune."

Staring at the bulb, Sal slowly turned it over in her hands.

"I…"

"Listen. They, um, they wanted to come over. For Christmas. They already got the tickets, they just need— I told them not to bother unless— unless you were okay with it."

She wasn't going to cry. She wasn't going to cry. Damn it, she wasn't going to cry.

"Moooooommy I want down! Lemme go!"

Using her free arm, Miyu pulled Sal into an embrace. She buried her face in Miyu's shoulder, and by some miracle, didn't cry. After a few unsteady, shuddering breaths, she looked up.

Flailing, Ren managed to accidentally clock her in the side of the head.

She couldn't help it, she burst into laughter.

"Think they'd babysit for a couple days?"

"They're your parents, you tell me."

"…Yeah. Yeah, it's okay."

Sal wrapped her arms around both Miyu and Ren, and laughed again. A family Christmas, not just the three of them, but with both sets of parents? She couldn't ask for a better gift.

But the Monnierara Millennium Magic 'Witchcraft' wasn't too shabby either.

* * *

**DECEMBER 25TH**

* * *

Meiru gently ran her fingers over the plastic needles on the artificial tree, the branch shaking slightly under her touch. Tiny, delicate lights blinked, red and green and white, buried within the green needles and silver tinsel and rich velvet red and gold ribbons. More than anything, she loved the little lights. She and her mother had strung them in the windows, on the stair railing (both indoors and out), across the bushes that flanked their front door. Mom had even given her some extra-tiny fairy lights to hang in her bedroom window, and they shone through the curtains.

It was 73° outside. She wished it was snowing. She wished she could sled and make a snowman and have a snowball fight with her friends and that it got cold enough for ugly sweaters— all the things movies had told her were quintessential to the real Christmas experience. She wished that weather could _shut down the school_ for a day and it didn't mean they needed to be afraid of a massive hurricane wrecking their house.

She wished Gran Gran was still around, for just one more Christmas. Just one more.

This year's haul was okay. A lot of clothes she didn't really like, that was pretty standard. A new P.E.T., which was awesome, it had way more features and faster internet… except now she had to buy another water-proof case. Maybe she could use both, the new one at school and home, the old one while she was at the beach or the pier. Some sticker packets and a sticker book— she'd lost interest in collecting stickers when she was eight— and some cool toys and glittery bath bombs.

"Come on in for breakfast, sweetie," her dad called from the kitchen.

Meiru sat down with her family and served herself heaping portions of eggs, spam, and rice, along with plenty of papaya and banana. She ate quietly and listened to her parents and aunts and uncles' conversation, her attention drifting in and out as her mind focused on other things.

"Can I go to my friend's house?"

"It's Christmas—" Dad started.

"Help me clean up the table," said Mom. "Then you can go."

Meiru cleared the dishes and washed the plates for good measure, then grabbed her backpack and headed out the door.

* * *

Two things Meiru learned that day.

First of all: Enzan's house wasn't nearly as close as she thought it was, and that bike ride was _exhausting_. Her legs were simultaneously burning and felt like jello.

Second of all: his house was huge. Like, _huge_ huge. It was crazy. She craned her neck to take it all in, and then shook her head. What did his dad do again? Something with technology, that's all she could remember. Sheesh, who even needed this much room? It was just the Enzan and his dad, right?

The doorbell was a buzzer with a camera and a tiny screen. Some staff member stared at her critically over the video feed. "Can I help you, miss?"

"I'd like to speak to Enzan. I'm one of his classmates. Meiru. Thank you, er, sir."

Sir, right? What was the protocol?

"Please wait."

It felt like she stood out there forever, and eventually her legs were so tired that she sat down on the stairs. Of course, the moment she sat, there was the sound of footsteps and the 'clunk' of the lock being opened, and Meiru scrambled to her feet.

"Hello…"

Enzan looked confused. She hadn't called or anything, and honestly, they didn't really do much together on their own. Usually he only saw her at school, or when they were with the rest of their friends. Plus, it wasn't like she'd called ahead or they'd had any plans.

"Hi! Enzan. I, um…" Meiru slid her backpack off and swung it around, quickly unzipping it and digging around inside. "I know you don't celebrate, but I got ya something…"

Grinning, she held out the present.

"Oh." Hesitantly he took it, blinking in confusion. "I… did not get anything for you."

"Don't worry about it! This was a surprise."

He smiled somewhat nervously. "Thank you, Meiru."

"Well? Aren't you going to open it?"

Then he wilted a little, not expecting that, either. He carefully picked at the tape and peeled the edges of the wrapping, so as not to tear it. Once he got one side open, he was able to slide the box out, and examined it.

"I asked my cousin. He's into gaming and stuff, too. I told him you like to build your own terminals, and he said that was the best graphics card you can get…"

It was, at least for the budget Meiru was working with. It wasn't as good as the one he already had. But… Enzan realized that this was a fairly expensive gift for Meiru, one that she'd very thoughtfully chosen, knowing it was a surprise, expecting nothing in return.

"Thank you. Thank you so very much. This is very kind of you." He was rambling, bowing out of habit, then corrected himself and gingerly gave her a very timid, loose hug.

"You're welcome. Merry Christmas. Er— I mean—"

"It's okay. You too— ah, merry Christmas to you also."

Still grinning, she nodded and pulled the backpack over her shoulders, then picked her bike up off of the ground.

"Oh, wait. I can get the chauffeur to give you a ride back."

"But my bike…"

"Not a problem, it will fit in the car." He gestured for her to follow, and then had her wait in the foyer.

If the outside of the Ijuuin's mansion was intimidating, the inside was _even worse_. She stood there, swaying slightly and shuffling her feet, feeling so, so out of place. Eventually Enzan returned with the chauffeur, Mr. Kawena. She'd met him a few times, he was a nice guy.

"Meiru!" He held out his fist and she gave him a fist-bump. Mr. Kawena's casualness instantly helped her feel a little more relaxed.

Enzan offered another quick bow. "Thank you, again, Meiru."

"You're welcome, again, Enzan."

* * *

Afterwards, he went up to his room, clutching the graphics card box. Completely emotionally overwhelmed, he fought back tears, and failing that, sat on the edge of his bed with his head buried in his hands. Once he'd pulled himself together, Enzan sent Blues a quick electronic message and waited for the chauffeur to return.

Blues was already waiting outside the yacht by the time he got there.

"What's the rush?"

"I— I need to—" Enzan stammered slightly. "I need to install a new graphics card in my terminal. I wanted to do it in this one, because it's my favorite."

"Okay…" He picked up the card and looked it over. "Er, Enzan. This one is less advanced than—"

"Meiru gave it to me as a gift. It was a surprise." He hesitated for a second, not sure if Blues understood. "Normally, for a classmate, one would give something… small and inexpensive. A token gift. This was… this was very thoughtful of her."

The mernavi tilted his head to the side. "It's because of your father, isn't it?"

"Yes, I believe so."

He quickly wiped away tears from the corner of his eye.

His father, who gave him everything he'd ever asked for, plus a very generous allowance, and never once a spontaneous, _thoughtful_, surprise gift. Enzan was a pragmatic child, he knew that his father loved him.

The man just… didn't know _how to_.

Blues took the terminal case from him and handed back the card. Enzan reached in and gently pulled the old graphics card out, then installed the new one. As he replaced the case and the screws, he couldn't help but smile.

* * *

On her windowsill were more gifts, ones she'd give to her mernavi friends the next time she saw them. Probably on Friday or Saturday. Meiru had put the most effort into Netto's gift. After consulting with Roll, she'd found a titanium key fob and a chain— titanium didn't rust in saltwater— and made a necklace out of it, with little charms to represent each of their friends. This year she hadn't put as much thought into Roll's present as she normally did, but figured she would understand. Then she'd also picked up neat little gadgets for Rock, and Blues, and even Forte (despite the fact that all he deserved was a lump of coal).

Although it stayed warm year around on the island, the days were shorter this time of year. It was a little after six and already dark, and the tiny lights glimmered against the dark glass.

* * *

**DECEMBER 27TH**

* * *

She had missed the third and fourth days.

Dr. Goodall sat alone, but wasn't lonely. With no thought given to dinner, she poured herself another glass, wandered into the living room, took a seat and kicked her feet up on the coffee table. Saturday night she would go to Lorraine's and Sunday to Jeff and Leilani's, so this was the last day 'celebrating' Hanukkah on her own.

"Sorry, love." Pausing to take a sip, she focused for a moment on the notes of plum and blackberry. "I forgot to light those candles before sundown." He would've given her an ear full, but then a sigh of exasperation and followed it up with a kiss, and maybe a playful smack on the caboose.

…No, he just would've taken care of everything, gently reminding her not to work late and to start preparing dinner early. Marty had always been the spiritual one. Joy just went through the motions.

"Mick's got to be at least six feet tall. That boy's growing like a tree." This was a gross exaggeration, he wasn't even a full five feet yet. "He's almost a man. Of course, you know that. You're gonna miss out on a helluva 'beach' mitzvah this year."

She'd set the framed photo on the coffee table, and was torn between laying it face-down or picking it up. Joy took another sip while contemplating the options, then reached out and grabbed it.

"Hannah lost her second baby tooth. She's sickeningly adorable, if I do say so myself."

She sat there and talked to him about how all of their children were doing. Their youngest son's girlfriend, their daughter's newborn baby. About the grandkid's grades and report cards, how Lorraine's biopsy results came back clean, that their neighbor Ms. Pelekai had broken her ankle trying to get a frisbee off the roof. At some point— about halfway through that second glass of wine— Joy drifted into the topic of work.

"Oh, and you remember that little punk from the hospital, Forte?" Spoken with the utmost affection. "The one who bit all my techs? Ah, I guess that's been a couple years ago now…" She chuckled. "Well, his guardian Dr. Cossack decided to throw a thing for mernavi's Alvistide celebration. Of course I went! Dr. Cain, too. Really he just did a sort of dinner party thing, but in all my years, I never thought I'd see another human try to get involved in that—"

Joy shook her head slowly.

"Yeah, yeah, I know about Mr. Masa's… thing… whatever he's got going on. Heh. Then, you know, Dr. Cain was here last Sunday, and Lorraine had the nerve to ask if we were dating? I mean, my rules are iron-clad. Never date a coworker, never work with family." She finished the glass. "And anyway, I doubt his husband would be too happy about that."

Quietly singing her terrible little song about moray eels, she began to drift off to sleep.

In the window, the lights burned out one by one.


	8. Lingering in the Ocean Blue

**Lingering in the Ocean Blue**

* * *

\- A/N: This chapter takes place a little later, so the mernavi kids are the equivalent of 13 - 14 year olds in this one.

* * *

"What do you _mean_ you can't go?"

For two solid weeks Netto hadn't been able to shut up about the hydrothermal vents. To bail out _now_… Rock couldn't believe it.

They'd been planning this for a while. It was a little dangerous and more than a day's travel out of their way, so they had to do it at a time when their parents wouldn't question their absence.

It wasn't the best alibi, actually. Netto and Rock had said they were spending a few days at Blues'. Blues, as well as Roll, had both said they were spending a few days at the Hikaris. If _any_ of their parents spoke to each other, they were sunk. And since their parents where on good terms, odds were high that this was going to go fantastically bad.

That had never stopped them before. It wasn't about to stop them now.

(Forte had no need for deceit. He simply told Dr. Cossack he'd be unavailable for a little while. Rock mostly felt pity for Forte's situation, but at times like this he found himself thinking, 'That lucky anemone.' )

"I just don't feel too great," Netto replied, wilting slightly under his brother's incredulous stare. "I think I caught a minor bug or something."

Rock sagged, heaving an exaggerated sigh. Netto was fine. He could tell. Something else was up, he just didn't have the slightest clue what.

It only went downhill from there. Roll sent a message while he was on his way to their meeting point, more or less apologizing because she couldn't make it— one of her cousins had dropped by for a surprise visit. Blues simply didn't show up. Rock and Forte waited around for a while, before he gave up and messaged Blues, and… continued to wait. The response was slow, and when it finally came, all too short.

'Sorry can't make it.'

"Great," muttered Rock. "Just great. Thanks guys."

"Who needs them?" Forte said, ever dismissive. "Your friends are all a bunch of losers."

'They're your friends, too,' Rock thought, but he knew that this was both true _and_ the wrong thing to say, so he bit his lip and started swimming. "It's just more fun to go exploring when you're in a group." Then he glanced over his shoulder at Forte. "Plus, you don't have to live with Netto. Do you know how much he's going to complain about missing out on this?"

"That sounds like a you problem."

So it was Rock found himself traveling alone with Forte, heading further away from home, going deeper into the ocean. He'd only been to the hadal zone, down in the deeper trenches, twice in his life… and then, never without an adult present. Even Forte avoided going too terribly deep, unless he was hanging out with Serenade.

Rock had come prepared with a pack strapped to his back, carrying both a personal and a larger portable terminal, a signal booster, a signal _scrambler_ (to help them avoid unwanted attention from some of the more dangerous predatory cyber creatures out there), multiple flashlights, a few days worth of fuel, and an emergency digimedical kit (including a couple liquid nitrogen boosters in case of heat stroke).

Forte had brought his personal terminal, his fangs, claws, and cannons.

(The handheld terminal was kept discreetly clipped under one of his faulds— the armor skirting on his flanks— which Rock tried not to think too much about.)

Sleeping in the open for just one or two mernavi was needlessly risky. It wasn't like camping under the stars for humans— it was more like camping under the stars in the thick of grizzly bear territory during the height of breeding season. Forte had no problem with it, that was just business as usual for him, but Rock decided to press forward. They could go a few days without sleep. It wasn't _fun_, but it wasn't really a big deal.

"Just keep swimming," Rock sang to himself.

"Ugh. That's from a hatchling's cartoon."

He shot the other navi a death glare. "Don't you _dare_ make fun of Dory, Forte."

"You are so—" He paused and held out his arms, crossing his wrists.

"_Rude_," said Rock, shaking his head.

"Just wondering, are you even capable of embarrassment?"

He pretended to think it over for a moment. "Nope." Then, grinning, Rock sped up, leaving Forte in his wake. A few seconds later Forte caught up and then passed him, and then it was on. They raced the rest of the way, trailing over across the sea basin.

They stopped before reaching the trench. Rock tossed Forte a canister of fuel.

"I didn't ask for this," Forte said, in lieu of thanks.

"You're welcome," Rock replied. "What were you planning to eat, anyway? Or were you just gonna starve?"

This earned a look of disdain. "There's nothing wrong with fasting. But to answer your question, I planned to hunt, like any self-respecting mernavi should."

"We haven't been hunter-gatherers for _thousands_ of years. It's a little something called 'civilization'."

"Tsk. Try something called 'self sufficiency'. Otherwise you get too dependent, too complaisant, and you'll die the moment you're on your own."

"Hahaha!" His laughter died off. "Wait, you're serious." He blinked, tilting his head. Gradually his body followed, until Rock was upside-down and peering at Forte with intense curiosity. "You don't know?"

"Don't know what?" Forte huffed slightly. "Do you have a point?"

Righting himself, Rock offered a sort of sly grin. "I had a data read error while still in the egg capsule. If it weren't for civilization— society, tech, our cushy lives you love to hate so much— I never would've been born."

There was a split-second where Forte dropped his guard. It was so brief that Rock almost wondered if he'd imagined it. But for one moment there was this look in his eyes… a look of guilt. How many times had he cruelly called Rock a 'data read error'? He'd had no idea. No idea.

Forte was too proud to admit his wrong, however, much less apologize. It was gone just as quickly as it came, and he proceeded to act as if the conversation hadn't happened.

Despite his apparently shrugging it off, it was actually one of those things that shook his worldview. Forte thought very little about anyone he considered 'weak', and Rockman— for better or for worse— was unnaturally powerful, and he couldn't help but respect that. As gifted as Forte was for his age, he'd had to work so hard, so intensely, to build and hone that power. It always seemed to come effortlessly to Rock. The idea that Rock had suffered such a critical flaw, something weak and lethal, was an incongruity that forced Forte to stop and reevaluate some things.

(Incidentally, Forte never called Rock that again. He came up with many, _many_ other creative insults, of course, but none of them where that particular brand of slurs.)

* * *

The water down in the trench was nearly freezing. Like most machines, mernavi's bodies worked more efficiently in cooler temperatures, but too cold was almost as bad as too hot. _Too cold_ slowed electric currents, damaged the screens in their eyes, contraction or expansion caused internal shearing on delicate components, locked up motors and servo valves.

It was a good thing they'd stopped to eat, because their generators had to work overtime to keep them warm.

Their frames could withstand the immense pressure, lethal to most organic lifeforms, but that didn't mean it was comfortable. Rock found himself massaging his aching wrist and elbows, stretching to try and relieve some of the tension in his shoulders. He glanced over at Forte, who seemed completely unbothered.

Their visual input could be adjusted as light grew ever more scarce, and on the way down they would pause every so often to re-calibrate to the seemingly impossible darkness surrounding them. Eventually Rock broke out the flashlights.

As they approached the hydrothermal vents, he turned off the lights and pulled out a fistful of small beads. Bioluminescent tech, which would die out in a half hour or so after activation, and then safely decompose— harmless to the delicate environment they were intruding on.

Gently tossing them, they drifted and swirled in the small currents created as intense heat met freezing water. It gave a muted blue-green glow, softly illuminating the thick black plume that flowed from enormous chimney-like spires. Smaller streams appeared to shimmer from the temperature differential, dancing around the larger columns.

It was incredible. Here the gaps in the Earth's crust allowed sea water to seep down into the spaces between tectonic plates, where it was heated by the magma within— the very lifeblood of the world. Complex chemical interactions stripped oxygen from the water and made it acidic, leaching minerals from the surrounding rock, heavy in iron sulfide which gave it that rich black color.

Without thinking, Rock reached out and grabbed Forte's hand.

He hadn't meant anything by it. He really hadn't. It was simply a natural gesture, one of friendship or family affection, the way he and his brother held hands all the time. If Netto had been there, Rock would've reached out for him, but he wasn't and Forte was and…

…and the instant he did it, Rock realized it was _nothing_ like holding Netto's hand. The tiny lights on his body flickered and brightened in embarrassment and… and something else. He couldn't have explained it if he wanted to.

Forte ripped his hand away like he'd been burnt, and gave Rock a baleful glare.

Tensing, Rock prepared for the worst. He knew what would come next. This sort of slip up could only end in violence. As long as Forte didn't shoot at him, he could just take the abuse and avoid escalating things any further.

But.

Nothing came. Aside from the dirty look, Forte did… nothing.

It struck Rock in a funny way. There was this feeling that… that for now, this was the closest thing to approval he was going to get from Forte. He wasn't about to push, but that this also wasn't the end of it.

After that, Forte moved towards the nearest vent. The deep ocean pressure prevented the water from boiling, allowing it to become superheated. Like an undisciplined child playing with matches, he couldn't help but reach out towards the jet of water.

"Don't do it," Rock said.

Forte scoffed. "I'm not going to _touch_ it." But even as he spoke, he stretched out a little further, fingers inching closer to the smokey looking stream. He pulled back a little, hesitant, then reached out again, determined to find out just how close he could get to the intense heat.

"Dooon't do it…"

"Shut u— tt!"

Forte jerked back, and he didn't scream but his expression made it clear he'd wanted to.

The liquid nitrogen was just for a navi's internal cooling functions, in case of a truly horrific accident, and wouldn't help with topical burns. The only thing to do for that was to use cold water, which they were already surrounded by. Forte still vigorously shook his hand out of instinct.

Rock choked back a laugh and covered his mouth to hide his grin. Not that he ever wanted to see his friend hurt, but… frankly, this was the kind of thing that Netto would do. Or even Rock himself, if he was being honest. For Forte to make such a boneheaded move… well… it was pretty hilarious.

"'Ha, ha'," Forte said sarcastically. "Go on, laugh. Jerk."

"I warned you!" Then, Rock smiled reassuringly. "You're just as bad as Netto. Here," he said as he gestured, "let me see."

Once again Rock found himself holding Forte's hand, although this time it was to check for injury. Sure enough, the extreme heat had caused some rippling distortion along the surface of his plating.

"Ouch. You're probably gonna need a repair for that."

He scowled. "Whatever. It's fine."

Rock brushed his fingers against the sore spot, still hot to the touch, and Forte winced.

"If you say so…"

They hung around for a while longer, admiring the majestic view. Not too much longer, though… because they were adolescent boys and easily bored. With Forte taking the lead, they prodded and harassed giant tube worms, and threw small stones at ghostly pale crabs. Rock scooped up a handful of tiny shrimp, laughing as they scampered along his arm before jumping back onto the stone pillar.

On the way back Forte started complaining. "I can't believe we swam all that way just for that."

"Told you it's better when you're in a shoal," Rock replied.

Forte huffed, but a few moments later said, "I guess. Those guys are okay. Annoying… but okay." There was a brief pause, and when he continued it was in the most apathetic tone he could muster. "You're slightly more tolerable than the others."

It felt like Rock's circulation pump had somehow dislodged and throttled up into his throat.

"_Slightly_."

* * *

"I'm surprised," Blues said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "I didn't think you'd scuttle yourself for Forte's sake."

Roll glanced from Blues to Netto— who hovered there with arms bent, hands on either side of his neck, tail fin flared, just _radiating_ displeasure— and tapped her chin.

"Look, I'm telling you, I really _did_ have to 'fry sit' my cousin Axl the past three days. That little spitfire was glued to my side the whole time. They're a good kid, but yikes— believe me, they'd have ended up in cooked in one of those streams for certain."

"I didn't miss out on the hydrothermal vents for this, Roll!"

"No one asked you to," she told Netto. Then she shook her head again. "I mean, really. We all see where this is going, right? But there's no way— _no way_— those two could ever work together for any length of time. So…" She flicked her fin. "Let Saito get it out of his system now."

"Don't think I haven't noticed you're always calling him _Saito_ neither," Netto muttered to himself.

Blues chuckled, then gestured to the distance. "And here they come."

They stopped well before reaching the group, and it was hard to tell from that distance, but it looked almost as if Forte had reached out to touch Rockman's helm. Surly it was just the currents playing tricks on them. He then took off in the other direction— heading to the island to see Dr. Cossack, no doubt.

When Rock approached his friends, he was beaming. He enthusiastically greeted each of them, then threw an arm across Blues' shoulders as they headed back towards home, sharing every last detail about the trip and what the trench was like and how beautiful the vents were.

(Well, almost every detail.)

Later that night, Netto started teasingly pressing him, literally swimming over his shoulder and jabbing him in the back and side with a scrawny unforgiving finger.

"_Well?_"

"Well what?"

"Well _well?_"

"You're not even making sense right— would you stop poking me?"

"Whhheeeellllll?"

Rock gently swatted at Netto with his tail, then hid his face. "I, um, held his hand by mistake."

"Ohh, 'by mistake'. Right. And?"

"And… he didn't attack me…"

Netto burst into laughter. "That's basically a confession of undying love from that angry mantis shrimp." Then he grew somber. "Aw no. Rockman, you _can't_ hook up with Forte, he's the worst."

"Shh, don't say that. We're— it's not like that, anyway." He made a dismissive gesture. "We're way to young for any of that stuff, and I don't think he's interest in, in, you know…"

Sighing, Netto patted Rock on the shoulder.

"Yeah right. At this rate, you two are gonna run off and get on each other's pod registry the moment your I/O gear kicks online."

"Oh, come on, Netto… don't be ridiculous…"

But Rock's plating clamped down and he wouldn't look Netto in the eye. Typical Rock. He should've known there was no hiding your crush from your twin brother— and Netto could tell he had it bad.

What he couldn't have known was just how terrifyingly on-point his prediction was.


	9. Through Restful Waters & Deep Commotion

**Through Restful Waters and Deep Commotion**

* * *

Saito's earliest memory was of fighting with his brother.

If you could really call it 'fighting'.

With one grubby hand grasping a fistful of Saito's hair, Netto feebly slapped him with the other. The blows were stinging but insubstantial. Even back then he was so much stronger. He had been so angry— physically fine, feelings hurt. A wildly thrown punch, clumsy in form and poorly aimed, connected with Netto's chin. There was a slight plume of blue from his brother's mouth— he'd bit his tongue— and a wail of pain followed.

He couldn't remember what it was that they had been fighting about in the first place.

What stuck with him most was how guilty he'd felt afterwards.

* * *

Twins were unusual.

The way their reproduction worked, there was no such thing as identical twins, but sometimes a prolific mernavi would fabricate two initialization chips from the same data collection. The data was always configured a little differently for each chip. Siblings sharing an egg capsule. Fraternal twins. A rare and special thing.

It was just a sad coincidence that in this case, one of them suffered an equally rare data read error— what humans would call a birth defect— during their development stage.

_'Incompatible with life.'_

Yuuichiro and Haruka found out about this before the boys hatched, but too late to do any reprogramming.

_'You'll still have one healthy child, be grateful.'_

As if…

As if…

As _if_ they could just let the other one die. Let uncaring, cruel nature take its course, without putting up a fight. Without even trying. How could they possibly sit by and do _nothing?_

Surgery on an unhatched mernavi was possible, and not even that difficult…

…but carried with it certain risks, like the increased chance of a critical power failure.

In order to save their dying child, they'd put his healthy brother in danger. That was not an easy decision, nor one that they took lightly.

There were a lot of broken friendships, cut family ties, in the fallout.

There was also a silver lining: the trial strengthened their closest family bonds. Yuuichiro's primary Tadashi was perhaps the greatest computer scientist of his generation, and while he wasn't a repair type, Yuuichiro was no slouch in the digimedical field himself. Haruka was their cornerstone, the strength they all drew from when everything seemed hopeless. (She had been every bit as scared and distraught as they were, but she'd put on a brave face for their sake.) Together, they pulled through.

* * *

Saito wasn't born a combat type.

* * *

His brightest, clearest memory was of the day his weapons system came online.

The sensation of something new awakening inside him. The sheer… _power_… that he felt.

Saito stumbled over his words when he excitedly tried to explain to Netto what was happening. His brother had stared in confusion, although to be fair, Saito wasn't making a whole lot of sense at the time. With the realization that actions speak louder than words, he grabbed Netto by the wrist and dragged him along, swimming away from their home. He kept going until they reached the outskirts of the city, facing the open ocean.

Forming a cannon was as natural as running water through his cooling vents. The metal plates on his arm shifted and rotated, the structural framework beneath repositioned itself, snapping into place. It felt so strange, that first time, almost painful.

Firing the blaster was like taking a deep drink of fuel, or swimming along in a steady current. Effortless.

Absolutely thrilled with this turn of events, Netto whooped and threw his arms around Saito's neck, twirling about in the water.

Saito just grinned sheepishly.

That was also the day his brother started calling him 'Rock'.

* * *

The suffix that humans mistranslated as '-man' wasn't a title given out to just anyone. It had to be earned or bought. _Children_ weren't called '-man'. Especially not children who suffered a congenital disorder which nearly killed them before they were even born.

In less than a year after gaining a blaster, he had earned the name 'Rockman'.

* * *

They were like krill, plankton. Tiny, deadly mantis shrimp trying to take on a blue whale.

The energy blasts from Rockman's cannon ricocheted off the robotic sea serpent. It was large enough to swallow them whole, and their biggest advantage was how slowly it moved compared to the young mernavis. Their only advantage, really. Nothing they threw at it made a bit of difference. Netto darted in front of it, rhythmically twitching his tail in an effort to draw the serpent's attention. A huge metal maw opened before him, flashing rows of serrated teeth eager to tear into his frame. He spun, twisting in the opposite direction, and swam as fast as he could.

When it snapped its mouth shut, this created a rush of water, propelling Netto forward even as those dreadful teeth swept past him, so close that he could've reached out and touched them.

With a cry of outrage, Rock unleashed a volley of shots at the serpent, swimming along its jawline as he fired. "Get away from my brother! Netto, be _careful!_"

Blues' sword skittered over the creature's armor, leaving a thin uneven scratch, unable to penetrate such impossibly thick plating.

"Oh, come on!"

Bolting over the top of its head, Netto appraised the situation, and tried to think of a way to defeat the sea serpent. 'Tried' being the operative word.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but wasn't Forte supposed to be giving us a hand with this?" Blues asked, gritting his teeth as he struck from a different angle. He was going for the seams, hoping to find a weak spot. It was a good idea, except it didn't work.

"Yeah, he's on his w—"

Rock was distracted enough that a swing of its giant caudal fin struck him from behind, sending him spiraling tail over top. Blues gave up on trying to stab the serpent and raced after his friend. The moment Rock was able to steady himself, he stalled, hovering in place as he clutched his head and tried to shake off the vertigo. Seconds later Blues crashed into him, dragging him to safety as the monster chomped at empty water— right where Rock had just been.

"Losers," Forte commented, finally arriving for the fight.

"Where _were_ you?" Blues countered, then glanced at Rock. "You okay?"

"Yeah, thanks."

Forte had gleefully rushed in. His attacks were no more effective than Rock or Blues' had been, but he was not the least bit discouraged by this fact.

When Rock moved to return to the fight, Blues grabbed his arm. "You should wait a minute, let your head clear. Otherwise you will hamper the rest of us."

Shoulders sagging, Rock heaved a weary 'sigh' through his cooling vents. Blues meant well, even if sometimes the execution left something to be desired… and he wasn't wrong.

"Alright. I'll be with you guys in a few."

He watched sullenly as Blues swam back, the massive sea serpent twisting and writhing, gnashing its teeth and swatting its tail, with Netto still diving around it like a pesky damselfish, and Forte enthusiastically (but fruitlessly) firing away. Since he was a good distance from the action, Roll approached to check on him, then gave him the all-clear.

By the time he rejoined them, Netto had a plan.

"Blues, get 'em in the corner of the eye with your sword! Rock, Forte, focus on that eye!"

"Don't tell me what to do, you little orange gull t—!"

"Just shoot the eye!"

"Just do it already!"

"Must you argue everything?"

All three responded at the same time, making it hard to understand any of them, and Forte pulled a face… but he also got into position.

The sword did cut deeply, sliding in-between the serpent's eye and socket, allowing Blues to slice into the screen and the delicate visual equipment below. It was the opening they needed, and with both Rock and Forte focusing their shots in the same spot, its left optic went in an explosion of flickering light and electricity. The serpent thrashed, then dove, retreating down into the deep sea.

They'd hoped to kill the beast, but driving it away from the populace was the next best thing. With the injury they'd given it, it was unlikely to go hunting for an 'easy' mernavi meal ever again.

At first, Forte gave chase, but Blues rushed ahead and cut him off.

"It's no longer a threat, let it go."

Forte sneered and for a moment looked like he might blast the other navi.

"Yeah," said Netto, slowly approaching, exhausted from all the racing around. "C'mon, let's head back home. If we go now we can catch the last half of Star Potter Reloaded."

"'_Home_'—"

"Mom's making stuffed cathode crabs with a niobium crust," Rock added, eyes wide, a hopeful expression on his face.

This earned a dirty look and a dramatic eye roll, but Forte gave in and followed them back to the city, grumbling to himself the whole way.

* * *

Rockman's favorite memory was of the evening that followed.

Good friends and good food, his parents being lovingly embarrassing, the sense of accomplishment from a victory in battle, the five of them goofing off and playing games and talking for hours about nothing of substance.

What stuck with him most was just how perfectly ordinary it was, and all the little things that made it special. The mischievous glint in Netto's eye when he was teasing his friends, the peaceful look on Blues' face when he really felt at home, Forte's stubbornly feigned disinterest, the sound of Roll's laughter.

They were up so late that Netto fell asleep on him— literally, helm resting on Rock's shoulder, one of the ridges digging into his neck. Putting his arm around Netto, Rock let him sleep, both of them listening to the comforting sound of their brother's circulation pump.

* * *

A/N: Trying to come up with a name for the initialization chip, we kicked around different suggestions. I thought it would be fun to share (some of these were jokes): gamete chip, larval chip, spore chip, oocyte chip, kernel chip, integrated circuit chip, "ahhh but this is more like… the egg.. the zygote… the fetus chip, lol", base chip, initialization chip

\- I may come back to this and add more chapters when the inspiration strikes, then shuffle them to the appropriate spot in the timeline. Until then: thanks for reading!


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